STATION 12: JESUS DIES ON THE CROSS

Jesus knew that his mission was now finished, and to fulfill Scripture he said, “I am thirsty.” A jar of sour wine was sitting there, so they soaked a sponge in it, put it on a hyssop branch, and held it up to his lips. When Jesus had tasted it, he said, “It is finished!” Then he bowed his head and gave up his spirit.”
— John 19:28-30 (New Living Translation)

Station 12

When the followers of Jesus heard him cry out, “It is finished,” when they saw him take his last breath, they knew. It was finished.

It was finished.

All they had hoped for, all they had anticipated, was over. They had witnessed Jesus raise Lazarus from the dead, but now it was Jesus whose heart had stopped, whose body had shut down. Who could raise him?

It was finished.

But we know that as Jesus hung on the cross, and when he cried out “It is finished,” he did not mean that HE was finished. He did not mean that the hope he gave was finished.

No, indeed. He meant that the work for which he had come: it was finished. That word “finished” in Greek is the verb teleo, which means consummation, completion. To accomplish a task. It means to bring a necessary process to an end. What Jesus had come to do, he had done. And as he proclaimed that it was finished… a new beginning became possible. Through his death, through his burial, through the grief-stricken hours before that first Easter Sunday morning, something new came to be.

Each of us today faces our own struggles, uncertainties, worries and fears and anxieties and doubts. Some of us are struggling with illness — ours or that of a loved one. Some are grieving, others facing challenging situations at work or home. Some just aren’t at all certain what the future will hold.

Today is a promise that even the worst of days is not the end of the story. It’s a promise that God’s faithfulness endures forever. It’s a promise that even when we see no way forward, that God IS the way forward. Because God can take our despair, our heartbreak, our hurt, and even our death, and transform it into something redemptive and beautiful.

That, after all, is our God’s specialty.

Hope out of despair.
Joy out of heartbreak.
Healing out of hurt.
Life out of death.

A new beginning out of what seems like the end.

Let us pray.

Gracious God,

We pray that when all hope seems lost, that we would remember that you are a God who seeks and saves the lost. We pray that when we have lost our way, that we would remember that you are a God who forges new paths where before there were none. We pray that when we fall prey to fear and uncertainty and doubt, that we would remember that your grace is so deep that even death itself is not the end of the story.

We pray as we remember how Jesus died on the cross for us, that our hearts and spirits would be overwhelmed with gratitude. We pray that you would give each of us a deeper understanding of the extravagant love that allowed Jesus to endure it all in order to save us. We pray that as we, with the disciples, grieve that it happened, that we would know that Jesus counted it all worth the sacrifice, because he counted us as worth the cost.

We pray that we would remember this, cherish this, hold on to this, and rest in its certainty, this Good Friday, and all the days of our journey, until one day our bodies give up and we are brought into your presence. We thank you for your love, forgiveness, and for the hope this day, when Jesus’ work was finished.

We finish this station by praying in silence, that you would open our spirits to you this day.